


Disarm the Depraved

by 217



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-29 22:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11450835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/217/pseuds/217
Summary: Caps litter the street as I run for my life trying to zip up my backpack. The 5mm bullet grazes my arm before I barely make it out of New Vegas. This time, I've cheated the wrong people and the Omertas will kill me unless I can disappear. Maybe I should have thought twice before ending up in Zion. Joshua Graham x OC (Boone will be in later chapters)





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N I enjoy the mentor side of Joshua and decided to write based upon that. His conviction will either help or hinder the OC. Boone will play a heavy role in later chapters. This is a slow burn because I'm cruel. Rated T for now, but that will change. I've added the OC's picture on my profile if anyone is interested. Told from her POV.**

* * *

Svetlana (last name unknown)

Age: 32  
Height: 5' 2  
Tag Skills: Lockpick, Sneak, Speech

S - 3  
P - 5 (6 with her glasses)  
E - 3  
C - 6  
I - 9  
A - 7  
L - 8

Outfit- Merc Grunt or Vault 3 Jumpsuit, Eyeglasses

**Notes:**

Despite her constant thieving, Svetlana remains good in Karma due to her nonviolent good hearted nature. If asked, she does not believe she is a good person.

Has a medical skill of 60. She was in training to become a Doctor but quit for an unknown reason.

Fiends will not attack her.

* * *

"Next," a gruff voice echoes through the immeasurable cave.

I move my arm up, situating the strap of my backpack on my shoulder and hand the man my papers.

He chews his toothpick obnoxiously for a few seconds, then spits it to the damp earth. "You sure?" I nod and he pulls the paper closer to his face. "Sv- Sveh-"

"Svetlana," I educate him. I hope he doesn't ask me anything else because I had my records forged.

The corner of his lip curls upward as if he's unsure about taking me with them.

Normally, I wouldn't agree to such a thing but I'm in a lot of trouble with the Omertas for stealing money by cheating their casino at blackjack. The farther I can get myself from New Vegas the better and I thought Zion would be a good place to start.

"You'll be pretty on the eyes at least," he adds, folding the paper and handing it back to me. It's obvious his vision is terrible, especially his right murky eye that seems to keep drifting off to the side.

The truth is, I'm not much to look at. The wasteland has made sure of that. I use my knuckle to push up my eyeglasses, even though they're already in place. It's an awkward tic of mine I've developed over the years.

"Jed," he calls.

Jed walks over to him and looks me up and down. "Heard my little broadcasts, did you?"

I have no idea what he's talking about and, frankly, I'm getting a little antsy to leave.

"Well, the Journey to Zion takes 14 days. Also, there's a weight restriction. No more than 75 pounds."

As if my small frame could support 75 extra pounds. "I understand." The only things I'm carrying in my backpack are, three flasks, the caps I took from the Omertas, a few hygienic items, my cigarettes, an empty bottle, and a change of clothes.

"No companions allowed."

"I don't have any companions."

Jed points to the miniature broken Sentry bot toy at my feet.

I won him in a card game 15 years ago and he's been with me ever since. "If it's that big of a deal, I'll put it in my backpack." I hoist him up and flip the AI switch off.

"Let's move out, everyone."

I gather my messy hair up in a ponytail and we start the fourteen-day hike.

* * *

"Smokin's gonna kill ya," someone interrupts my thoughts, helping themselves to sit next to me.

I can't stand when people talk like this. "Let's hope," I murmur, taking another drag.

"I'm Finn," he beams.

"Svetlana," I respond dryly.

"What kind of a name is that?"

"It's just a name." I put my cigarette out, hoping he'll get the hint from the irritation in my voice to leave me alone, but the asinine roster of questions continue.

"What'd you dye your hair blue for?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Or rather, a quick way to alter my appearance by boiling a few Xander roots with Nuka-Cola Quantum. Gun shots startle me as Finn grabs his weapon and runs back to camp. I fumble for mine in my holster, but I should just stick with what I know. Running. I frantically pack and keep low to the ground before I come to the edge of the cliff. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice there's a supply bag just out of my reach. I debate leaving it behind but know I'm not that great of a survivalist despite my lifestyle. I stretch my fingers, moving my foot out a bit and slip off the cliff. "Oh, Christ," I whine, gripping the ledge. I take a deep breath and press my foot against a conveniently placed rock, steadying myself so I don't fall to my death. Swallowing hard, I reach again for the bag. This time, I'm able to snatch the canvas flap between my fingers. I pull it closer, not expecting the small bag to be so heavy. It falls over the edge as the strap winds around my ankle, taking me with it. I'm knocked unconscious when I hit my head against a boulder towards the bottom.

* * *

I'm alive, although, that's not always a good thing. There is no telling where I am and if I'm safe. I feel a little better about my odds once I get my glasses on and see my surroundings. Several medical aids lay near the bedroll, including the needle and thread that sewed the gash on my head. Surely someone that meant harm wouldn't go through this much trouble? My boots are off, leaving me in my vault suit. Well, it wasn't technically mine but that's neither here nor there. "Hello," my voice quivers. I need something to drink. My throat is incredibly dry. When I get to my feet, it's difficult, but I manage, walking out to an open part of the cave. I trip from my fatigue, landing on my outer leg and hands.

"We should have given you a better welcome on your first visit to Zion, but from what I hear, the White Legs beat us to it. You're not who I was expecting but I suppose they wouldn't have come with a caravan. I don't know if you were close to the other members of your group, but you have my sympathy. I pray for the safety of all good people who come to Zion, even Gentiles, but we can't expect God to do all of the work."

I give a breathed laugh through my nose at the voice. "You don't actually swallow that shit, do you?"

"Not a God fearing woman I trust?"

"If there's a God, he sure isn't worth praying to."

"We all go through periods of darkness. In such times, we can turn to the Lord."

Is this a joke? Did I die? After a few breaths, I get to my knees. I touch my hand to my temple and let out a groan. Running my fingers through my hair, I can feel where the rock hit my head. Dried blood mats my hair. I see the man that's been talking to me for the first time and move away from his hand when he tries to inspect my wound. "Don't." I notice that his hands are covered in white bandages. They move up his arms and disappear into his sleeves that have been rolled up to his elbows. The bandages start again on his neck and completely cover his face, except for a small strip where his eyes are. My vision blurs and I sink to the floor.

* * *

I'm back on the bedroll but I don't wake up alone as he sits on the floor reading what appears to be the Bible. I roll my eyes, pushing the blanket off me. "Where am I?"

"Angel Cave at the Dead Horse camp." I'm still just as lost before I knew my location. "How did you manage to escape?"

"I didn't. I fell down the cliff and woke up here."

He gives me a look almost as if he doesn't believe me. "You weren't missing any bullets from your gun."

"I don't even know how to use a gun. I carry in hopes of intimidation because I could never harm anyone. Killing doesn't solve anything."

"I don't enjoy killing, but when done righteously, it's a chore, like any other."

"I guess," I say, reaching for my backpack and pulling out the flask. I gesture it towards him as he folds his arms and shakes his head no. "Are you the town preacher," I ask, taking a drink, trying to quench my thirst. Surprisingly, he takes it from my hand as some of it spills down my vault suit. "I offered you some," I snap, running my hands down my suit as if it's going to completely dry my attire.

He pours what's left out, then flings it at me.

"Jerk," I mutter, shoving the flask back into my backpack. "What's your problem, anyway?"

The man doesn't respond and leaves me alone.

I grab another flask, chugging it before he comes back with vague persecution. I'm starting to think I should have just stayed in New Vegas.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Hopefully everyone is enjoying this so far.**

* * *

I was able to leave the cave today and find a secluded spot to bathe. The vault suit has stuck to my skin from the wound on my shoulder. It's infected but not too bad. After a long bath, I stretch out on my towel, letting the sun dry my naked body. For the first time, I almost fall asleep without the use of alcohol but I force myself to get up and get dressed before the sun burns my delicate pale skin. Deciding this is a good place to set up camp, I wash my vault suit and hang it to dry. There's a faint smell of food in the distance as I chase after it, hoping there are others here.

"You shouldn't bathe alone."

I turn around becoming enraged. "Were you watching me?"

"Your hair is damp and your clothes changed."

Oh. Speaking of clothes, I notice he's wearing an SLCPD tactical vest. It puts me at ease as I curve my hostility. "I'm famished, is that why you are following me?"

He nods, folding his arms.

"Will you accompany me?"

"You are well spoken for a Gentile."

"What makes me the Gentile?"

"Your lifestyle makes you the Gentile. It is purely factual."

"No, that's your polluted opinion only because I don't adhere to your faith."

"Very well."

"Very well nothing, call me by my name or do not address me."

"Joshua?" someone interrupts.

I don't understand what's said after that because the language is strange and I quietly leave. It's a long way down the hill before I come to a fork in the road. I take the left side before feeling fingers wrap around my wrist.

"Not that way. It isn't safe," Joshua warns, pulling me close to him.

"What's down there?"

"A camp for White legs, Sorrows and Dead Horse's that have been exiled because they don't adhere to our faith as you put it."

"That doesn't mean it's not safe."

"Go see for yourself. Talk to the women who quickly become sex slaves in trade for the drugs they abuse."

I pull my wrist from his grip, looking away from him. "I see," I murmur.

"Keep right."

"I'm not really hungry," I say, starting back up the hill. Instead, I pull the large empty bottle from my backpack and two Nevada agave fruits. Using the purified water I found, I make tequila. I love drinking more than anything. It's not healthy to drink until you become unconscious but if I don't I lay awake at night too deep in my thoughts.

"You will not drink in my camp," Joshua snaps, setting down a plate of food on the collapsed picnic table.

"Who asked you? You're nothing more than a self-righteous prick. Besides, I thought only your condemnatory God could judge."

"It is one thing to forgive a slap across my cheek, but an insult to the Lord requires… no, it demands correction."

"I don't know if you've figured this out yet, but I don't believe what you believe."

"You may not be concerned with matters of faith, but this is a case where faith and practicality coincide."

Practicality? I like that.

"You could be of use to my people," he continues, flipping the conversation. So, he wants something from me.

"I can't be any help to you," I grumble, quickly ridding any emotion.

"You have a way with words. Talk to Daniel for me about fighting the White Legs. He'd rather evacuate than stay and fight."

I sigh and fold my arms. Whether or not I'll admit it to him, I owe his tribe my life for saving me. "Fine. Where is he?"

"Tomorrow, after you've slept."

"I get it. When I'm sober. Go insult someone else for the night." My face contorts with disgust as I flip around on my bedroll so my backs to him.

He lets out a grunt and heads back to Angel Cave.

I ignore his rules and finish the rest of my bottle. On an empty stomach, it kicks in even faster.

* * *

My stomach woke me up this morning. It's not quite dawn yet. Alcohol always got me through the night, it just wasn't any good at keeping me asleep. After I dress, I start down the same path as yesterday. A familiarity stops me as I look over my shoulder.

"I imagine you're still hungry seeing as you didn't eat the food I brought you."

"Your story… about the Gentiles. It upset my stomach."

"For that, I apologize."

"Don't. It was meant as a warning and I am appreciative of it."

"I admire your decorum."

I give him a soft smile. Never has anyone been so complimentary towards me and this isn't his first time. He gestures out his hand and we continue walking. I take note of how beautiful Zion truly is. Because it's so vast, I can really appreciate the sunrise and stop to do so.

He doesn't seem to mind as it allures him, too.

His closeness breaks my gaze. He's practically touching me. Then I hear scuffling and several men walk past us. It's almost as if the second they leave, he then creates a distance.

"We should keep moving."

I nod and let him lead this time.

Breakfast is something similar to oatmeal, with a creamier texture.

"I hope this will be suitable."

"I'm not a picky eater and am, in fact, very grateful."

"I want to introduce you to someone," Joshua says, motioning for someone to join us. "This is Follows-Chalk, he is the one who found you."

"Thank you so much," I comment, reaching my hand out, but Joshua quickly pulls it back.

Follows-Chalk hurries off.

"Keep your hands to yourself, especially around the Dead Horses."

"I'm sorr-"

"We can head back."

Well, this is awkward, but not as awkward as our walk back to the top of the hill. I have a seat at the picnic table, however, he doesn't join me and goes back to his quarters. I feel bad, but know I shouldn't because I had no way of knowing about their customs. Still, I guess I should have been more mindful. I'm too hungry to think any more on the matter and practically inhale my food wishing I wouldn't have been so modest with my portions.

* * *

I skim the open area, looking for anything to eat. This might be more trouble than it's worth. As I'm about to give up, I find a banana yacca fruit plant and start to pick it. Out of nowhere, I'm forcefully flung to the ground. The dry dirt stirs beneath me as I begin to cough. I see a large beast appear, and then hear a few gun shots. The beast falls over before I even have a chance to fear it. "So do you just follow me around?" I ask, wiping the dirt from my pants.

"Don't take this with ill-meaning, but we don't know you or what you're capable of. Regardless if you claim you fell from the cliff, you survived an ambush from White Legs."

"I was truthful in what I told you."

"Let's hope," he replies, going back to the hill.

I look over my shoulder disgusted but it instantly fades as my eyes trail down his torso to his jeans. I almost feel guilty about the thoughts that enter my mind, watching him walk away. My chest flushes, even after I can no longer see him. I cross my arms over my chest and go back to my camp to put on my vault suit. This white tank top is much too thin.

Even after a few hours have passed, I'm still flustered thinking about his tight jeans. In fact, I've even gone over a few times and purposely made noises to see if he'll come outside. I keep an eye out for several hours, but he doesn't emerge from his cave and I become bored. That only means one thing.

One bottle later, I'm well on the way to another good night's sleep when I sense someone's close. It would figure that it's him. However, the alcohol gives me courage as I saunter over to Joshua.

"May I get you anything?"

"No," I flirt, slowly moving my sapphire eyes up to his.

He raises an eyebrow at me.

Probably because I'm blushing like an idiot. "I was going to go for a swim, do you want to join me?" I grin, starting to unzip my vault suit.

Joshua grabs my hand and the vault suit, stopping me before I make a bigger ass out of myself than I already have. "I thought I made my position clear on alcohol."

"I'm not drunk," my honeyed voice assures him.

"Is that so?"

He tests me by shoving me back but I catch myself, however, when I walk towards him, I trip and fall to my knees. I'm eye level now with his well-fitting jeans as I smirk up at him.

His left eye twitches as he walks off.

What kind of a man refuses oral sex? I practically threw myself at him. Oh, my God. I sit back on my knees, covering my face. I can't believe what I just did. Sighing into my hands, I become mortified and start to sob.

After I get done feeling sorry for myself, I stand outside, debating going in and apologizing. Would he even care? I regret most that his admiration for me more than likely dissolved with that stunt I just pulled.

* * *

I managed to avoid him today, or maybe he avoided me. Either way, it was actually rather lonely. Not that I had many friends in New Vegas, except for a member of the King's I used to mess around with. Well, the King himself. Sadly, my only real relationship was with one of the fiend leaders, Motor-Runner. I lived with him in Vault 3 for about six years. I think about him from time to time but he changed the more he started using chems. I sigh and waste another day of my meaningless existence.

* * *

The cool water feels nice. I grab my bottle of shampoo I've crafted and wash my hair. I don't know why I keep it so long. It's more trouble than it's worth.

Someone clears their throat and it startles me. "What are you doing?"

Funny how this is what I wanted the other day. I guess I'm still embarrassed.

"I told you, it's not safe to bathe here."

"Obviously!"

"Despite what you think you know about me, I'm not a slave driven by my lesser desires. However, some of the men here are not as disciplined as they are refugees from the White Legs and they will force themselves on you."

"Oh." I was so caught up in emotion, I didn't even stop to think. He turns his back to me and folds his arms.

"Hurry and bathe. I will keep watch."

I nod as if he can see it. Part of me wishes that he would sneak a peek so I could somewhat redeem myself, but he is true to his word. I dry off and quickly dress, then put my hair up. "I'm done."

"You may bathe in my quarters where you'll also sleep, without the aid of alcohol."

"I'm not your prisoner."

"Go sleep in the open, see what happens. Just like last night when I pulled a man off of you, but you were too intoxicated to know."

"Someone tried to-" I wrap my arms around myself, feeling violated. "Thank you." I look up as he's already started without me. He opens his hand before we go inside. I reach into my backpack but he takes it from me, removing the flasks and my bottle. He gives them to me and makes me dump each one. Oddly, it's extremely difficult to do but I know I have no choice. When he pulls out my Sentry bot, I panic. "No, he's mine!" I yank it from his hands, then grab my backpack. "I don't expect you to understand."

He gives me another grunt, then goes inside.

Joshua has me sleep at the very back of the cave. It's secluded and almost suffocating, but better than my other option from what he's told me. I toss and turn on my bedroll, unable to sleep. Maybe he's still awake and we can fight more about religion. Anything to clear my head. I find him on his knees, unraveling the bandages on his left arm. He's badly scarred and in some places his skin is seared. "May I help you with your bandages?"

"Why aren't you on your side," his voice demands, keeping his back to me.

"I don't mind, I'm actually pretty knowledgeable when it comes to-"

"Leave. Now!"

"I was only trying to help." I haven't shown concern for someone since… whatever. It doesn't matter. Back to dank seclusion I go.


End file.
